


Little Black Book

by MarshmallowBirb



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Master/Slave, Mind Games, Restraints, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-25 15:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowBirb/pseuds/MarshmallowBirb
Summary: Six months after the events of their fondness stories, Yuxiang is given Peking Duck’s sin diary from the kingdom he helped destroy. What follows is a descent into depravity.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

It had been six months since that awful night. While Yuxiang loved history – its research, its documentation, its personalities – watching it happen was a more horrifying prospect altogether. What a history book could never capture, she had witnessed firsthand: the screams, the smell of smoke, the light of the fires, that Food Soul's expression as he watched it all burn.

He had caught her in the act of trespassing and she had caught him in the act of treason. From the first moment she met Peking Duck, she had known him to be a ruthless killer, hopelessly destructive, and something of a sadist. The very first thing he did upon meeting her was to whisper in her ear and then kill a whole detachment of guards with his mind.

She could have mourned her predicament. After he forcefully stopped her death that night, it was generally understood that he now owned her soul. But Peking Duck was surprisingly gentle under normal circumstances and only asked her to record their journey together. Her life with him was pleasant enough.

They traveled throughout the Light Kingdom in his covered wagon, resting their mules by rivers by night and making progress by day. Peking had said he was looking for a good spot to settle down and start a tobacco shop, or perhaps a pawn shop, but he seemed to be in no particular hurry. Yuxiang really had nowhere else she would have rather been, either.

As long as they had been together, though, she still felt like she was far from truly understanding her companion. While it was true that he was normally a kind man, he had taken several questionable jobs since they'd been on the road. Yuxiang withheld judgment, simply recording as they went. The jobs all seemed to be within the purview of a certain moral compass; dubious, but never truly wicked. He would certainly kill for money, and often did, but only once he had assured himself that the target was worthy of his scorn. He would never harm children. His prices fluctuated depending on how he felt about the job. And Yuxiang was left out of every negotiation and only permitted to see the results when he was done. She had an inkling as to why.

Since they had begun traveling together, Peking had treated her with the utmost care. He was well aware that she wasn't that strong compared to an average Food Soul; compared to what she'd seen him do, her strength was even less impressive. It would certainly be a waste to have her hurt or killed after he'd gone to the trouble of saving her life. More than that, he always saw to it that she had everything she needed to be comfortable. She felt a bit sheltered, honestly, but she tried to be understanding.

What was strange was their relationship outside of that. Yuxiang was by nature retiring and a bit shy; she preferred books to company most days and while she could talk at length about whatever she was studying, she had trouble being sociable for more than a few minutes at a time. Peking never pressured her to socialize if she didn't want to. But when they had to interact with humans, he put on something of an act.

Most encounters they had with humans, he introduced her simply as his companion. In recent weeks, he had begun telling them she was his wife. She played along because in the end, it didn't truly matter. They never stayed long enough in one place for the humans to question them. But the last town in which they'd stopped had been different.

They had visited the town's general store to purchase supplies and Peking had struck up a conversation with the proprietor while Yuxiang browsed the stationary. When she approached the counter with her selections, she expected that he had already informed the shopkeep that she was his wife.

“Ahh, and who might your companion be, sir?” the old man asked genially as Peking produced their coin purse. He responded without missing a beat.

“This is my slave, Yuxiang.”

His face was an impenetrable mask as he replied, leaving Yuxiang out of breath. Should she make a fuss, his lie would be exposed. So she played along, heart thumping in her ears and eyes on the floor. She handed her purchases to Peking, as would be expected.

“Well, well,” the shopkeep replied, raking his eyes over her from behind his spectacles. “Seems a fine investment. Bet she's a lot of fun.” He spoke just as casually as if he were discussing the weather and Peking reciprocated cordially. But the implication wasn't lost on her, regardless of how inexperienced she was in such matters.

“Certainly. I'm very pleased with her.”

“I couldn't tempt you to part with her, could I?” Yuxiang felt her heart squeeze in her chest. Without meaning to, she found herself holding her breath. But when she cast a nervous glance at Peking, she saw a familiar glint in his eye. To the human, he probably looked calm and placid. But Yuxiang knew better. That look was deadly.

“Oh no,” he said, his jovial voice at odds with how Yuxiang knew he truly felt. “I intend to keep her forever.”

She knew she should have been angry with him for surprising her with that. But even as they drove the mules away together quietly, she couldn't bring herself to scold him. Wasn't there a grain of truth to it? More than that, though, part of her was secretly thrilled by his proclamation. Why was it such a titillating idea? Color rose to her face as they rode away from the shop side-by-side in his wagon.

“I didn't upset you, did I?” he asked softly. Yuxiang couldn't meet his eyes, either way.

“Ah, no, I was just surprised.” It was true enough, and he didn't need to know the rest.

“I see.” And the topic was closed, just like that. But his non-committal response probably meant he would use that particular cover story again. Yuxiang tried not to be excited by that prospect, and she wasn't entirely sure how successful she was at that.

Not too long afterwards, they had parked the wagon just off the post road for the night. The wagon sat between the road and a small creek; there was an area for grazing their mules, a small clearing with a well-used campfire, and copious shrubbery and trees for shade. Peking had plenty of room to let his ducklings play and the creek was good for drinking and bathing.

As the sun set and dinner was cleared away, Yuxiang settled into her writing chair in the wagon to record their day's travels. This was their usual routine, him cleaning the dinner dishes and tending the ducklings and her with her studies, smoking her pipe. Although she had felt guilty watching him work while she enjoyed herself, the one time she protested Peking scolded her. This was, after all, what he wanted her for.

The wagon itself was far more spacious on the inside than it looked from the outside. Along one side was Yuxiang's writing chair, a small bookshelf and lantern, and her cot. Along the other was Peking's bunk, a mysterious curtained place that Yuxiang had only ever seen the inside of in shadows. At the foot of his bunk was the ducklings' basket, and along the back end was their shared closet and trunks full of supplies. The front end opened out into the running board from which they could drive the mules.

Yuxiang was so absorbed in her writing that she hardly noticed Peking reenter the wagon with his ducklings. He gently placed the armful of them into their bed basket and then went on to rummage through the closet. Yuxiang only really noticed him when he passed her again on his way to the door.

“Yuxiang,” he called in an even voice, “I'm going to bathe.” She noticed the towel and bathrobe slung over his shoulder as she looked up from her notes.

“Ah,” she acknowledged, taking a drag from her kiseru. Did he usually inform her of that?

“Would you like to join me?”

He had her attention now. There was a glitter to his eye that Yuxiang wasn't quite sure she'd ever seen before. She was sure she was blushing again, but there was no way she'd say yes. He had to be teasing her.

“N-No, I'm fine,” she replied, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. “I have writing to catch up on, so I'll bathe later.” Peking smiled in return.

“Suit yourself. I'll be back soon.” Was she mistaken, or was there just a hint of amusement in his tone? He was gone before she could question it. She stared behind him at the closed door, confounded.

It wasn't that she didn't think it was possible that Peking was flirting with her. It was just that Yuxiang wasn't adept enough at social interaction to know how to be sure that was what was going on. And if it really was, she didn't have the first clue how to respond to him anyway. As she looked at where he had left through the door, though, she caught sight of something foreign on the table just to the left of it.

It was a small book, bound in black leather and with a black ribbon attached to the binding. The cover had a red band holding it closed. And Yuxiang was absolutely certain it wasn't there just a moment ago. More importantly, she recognized this particular style of book.

It was one of the sin diaries that the citizens of Peking's fallen kingdom were required to keep.

She reached for it without even thinking. Yes, she knew she should leave it where it lay. She knew it was a private journal and she should respect Peking's privacy enough to ignore it. But he did also tell her when he met her that night that “curiosity killed the cat". That man did almost nothing without a reason. Surely this was something he intended her to see, knowing she wouldn't be able to resist it.

Yuxiang leaned back into her writing chair with the contraband book clutched to her chest. Just holding it was the thrill of doing something wrong. With trembling hand, she reached for the red band, slid it over the cover, and opened it.

As soon as she saw the first page, she knew she had made a grave mistake.

_An accounting of the sins of Peking Duck, His Majesty's most loyal and depraved servant, these being only those sins pertaining to lust…_

Yuxiang's breath caught in her throat as she realized the exact implications of that line. First, this diary only covered sexual sins. That implied he had more journals and that all of his sins couldn’t be confined to a single volume. Second, he was the only Food Soul in that kingdom when she arrived; everyone else in this account would be human. Last, if her memory of the laws of that kingdom served her well, when Peking had infiltrated the cult, he would have had to submit this book to the authorities as proof of his loyalty, probably regularly. That alone called its veracity into question. But somehow Yuxiang suspected he wouldn't have wanted her to read it if it wasn't at least somewhat true.

As she turned the page, she forgot her earlier nervousness little by little. His writing was seductive, with the slick brush strokes of a government official and the word choices of an accomplished poet. The prose was so soft it was almost as if he was there, whispering it into her ear. And the contents of that luxurious writing were more depraved than even the nastiest erotic novel Yuxiang had ever seen.

Every manner of debauchery and deviance was recorded in those pages. It started simple enough: a tryst during a fancy dinner with a young nobleman, a secret visit from a married woman, deflowering the engaged daughter of a visiting count. Yuxiang felt her body heat as she read every filthy detail. It was more intense than a novel, because she knew that these things had most likely happened and the man responsible was her constant companion.

Not too many pages in, the sins became grander and more elaborate. Blindfolded sex parties with Peking the only one allowed to see. Experiments with the daughters of noble families to see if humans could crossbreed with Food Souls, all unsuccessful. Beatings with whips and riding crops that drew blood, yet with the victims begging for more. Yuxiang was so entranced that she couldn't help the occasional gasp or moan.

In fact, she was so entranced that she didn't hear anything else in the wagon – least of all its door closing.

“Enjoying the book?”

Yuxiang's heart nearly stopped. She strangled a scream before clutching the forbidden book to her breast, almost dropping her kiseru. Sure enough, there stood Peking, hair wet and unbound and hanging down past his behind. Wide-eyed, Yuxiang realized he only wore his bathrobe, loosely tied around the waist at that. He was carrying his kiseru in his right hand, a trail of sweet smoke following behind him. And the look on his face sent a chill straight into the bottom of her soul. Judging from his smile, she had fallen right into his trap.

And while she was frozen, caught in the act of trespassing his privacy, he leaned forward and placed a hand on either arm of her chair. She was caged between his arms, and worse, she could see straight down the half-open front of his bathrobe. Although she tried not to stare, she couldn't help but notice his shapely chest, his firm stomach, and the dusting of brown hair leading lower out of sight. Her eyes snapped back up to his, noticing how close he was. As he cupped her cheek with his left hand, he leaned forward. Yuxiang’s blood ran cold, expecting a kiss.

Instead, Peking's cheek drew even with hers. She could feel his lips move against her ear.

“Well, you've started reading it,” he whispered. “If you like it, you should finish it.”

After one more little puff into her ear, he was gone. Before Yuxiang knew what was happening, he was standing upright again, taking a drag from his kiseru. He blew a stream of smoke and gave her a knowing smile. Then he began walking towards his bunk.

“When you're finished, let me know how you liked it.”

And then he vanished behind his curtains.

* * *

 

It took several minutes before Yuxiang was calm enough to read again. Rather than stay in the chair, she extinguished her pipe, took the black book to her cot and hung her lantern above it. Blankets up to her nose, she read the diary late into the night.

It got progressively more and more lascivious. Peking's house had apparently had a rather spacious basement, where he kept some few of his partners for weeks at a time. They were bound with all manner of restraints – ribbons, iron shackles, rope – and tormented until they cried and begged for mercy. Some were denied food, some were played with until they pleaded for a release which they were denied, and some were splattered with hot wax or whipped with a chain. In every instance, Peking was the one doing it to them. With loving words, he described how much he had enjoyed tormenting his victims – and how much they had loved his torture. By virtue of the country in which they lived, they were all depraved sinners and he took a devilish glee in extracting payment for their sins.

Sometime in the deepest part of the night, Yuxiang reached the end of the account of his time in the kingdom. One of his last encounters had apparently been with one of the king's favorite courtesans; she was certain this was very close to the time she had met him, as turning that particular account in to the king's officers would have been tantamount to suicide. But there were still more pages left before she reached the black ribbon bookmark. Curious, she continued turning the pages. Although she thought she had become inured to the debauchery by that point, what she found next made her stomach drop.

The diary didn't end after the kingdom fell.

To put it another way, Yuxiang realized that the next pages were entries about her time together with Peking.

_With the death of this accursed kingdom, I should reform and cease my wicked ways. But I must admit that a part of my soul still hungers for these terrible comforts…_

His first sin recorded after the kingdom fell was using his own soul to resurrect Yuxiang.

While his stated reason – the need for a historian – was true, he apparently had ulterior motives behind that.

_Her appearance suits me. Not in a solely physical way, although she does not want for anything in that area. But she appears to be knowledgeable of these matters and mature and difficult to frighten. These are all things I'll require in future. May she be a suitable companion for me and, if I am so lucky, mother as well._

Yuxiang bit her lower lip as she read the following entries. He had misjudged her only slightly when they met; even though her appearance was that of a mature and sexually knowledgeable woman, and she certainly liked to think of herself as a calm and reasonable person, Yuxiang had no such experience as that. She had never even kissed anyone, let alone even the mildest things in this account.

In subsequent entries, Peking seemed to have quickly come to that realization as well. He had tried to get her attention in the regular ways – subtle touches, engineering situations where they would be alone, buying her gifts – but had apparently been quietly frustrated by her innocence at every turn. The only thing he had had moderate success with so far was the times he had slipped that she was his wife into conversation. That particular strategy had been so effective that he'd decided to push it a little farther earlier today.

Finally, he had tried one last ditch effort to get her attention.

_Yuxiang, I feel that the only way to reach you will be if you see it in writing, as it seems that you are only moved by mental stimulation. If you've enjoyed this tome, you may come inside my bunk. However, carry this warning with you: once you've closed the curtains behind you, every part of you will belong to me._

Yuxiang snapped the book shut and lay, eyes wide, staring up at the canvas roof of the covered wagon. The last entry was in equal measure terrifying and thrilling. She had never remotely imagined any of the things written in that book, they should have disgusted her, and yet…

…and yet…

…she couldn't stop thinking about it.

With shaking fingers, Yuxiang reached up and snuffed out the lantern, plunging the wagon into darkness. How could she sleep? She couldn’t get the images out of her mind. Peking with that Countess or that Knight, having an illicit affair right under the noses of the other nobles. The basement full of torture implements where there were only cries of pleasure. The young women who had begged to bear his child. Except in her imagination, she was in their place. The sheer impact of the mental imagery caused her to whimper and jam her knees together under her blanket.

Even in the darkness, she could still look across the wagon and see the black curtains. All she had to do was walk three paces and open them. He had to be waiting for her. But she couldn't do it. Not tonight. She couldn't just jump whenever he said to jump. She needed time to process everything she'd just read. Her attraction to him was now undeniable, but she was also wise enough to know that decisions made in haste rarely produced good results. Besides which, his last warning had conveyed the gravity of his request.

It would certainly be difficult to sleep tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

The summer morning dawned bright and clear, the muffled light shining through the canvas of the wagon's cover. Yuxiang woke to the strange feeling of the contents of that book hanging over her head. She realized then that she had fallen asleep with it in her hand and quickly shoved it under her pillow. It felt now like that book didn't belong in the daylight, that it belonged firmly in the world of the night.

Looking up, she could see that Peking was already gone from his bunk. The curtains were open, but the inside was still hazy and too dark to really see anything. The ducklings were already out of their bed as well. Surely it wasn't that late?

“Yuxiang?”

In the daylight, Peking's voice was eerily normal. He was calling her from the front of the wagon, from outside.

“Y-Yes?”

“I have breakfast ready,” Peking chimed with the usual warmth in his voice. The utter normalcy almost lulled Yuxiang into thinking she had imagined everything.

“I'll be there in a minute,” she replied. She swung her legs over the side of her cot as she heard the door to the wagon shut. She could go for a bath, but breakfast was first. Even if she wasn't really hungry, Peking had gone to all the trouble to cook for her and she didn't want it to go to waste.

She made her way to the closet, dug out her day clothes, towel, and bath set, and snapped the simple doors shut behind her. This way, she could go straight from the campfire to the river. Hopefully breakfast wouldn't be too awkward, but now that she held that forbidden knowledge in her mind, her perception of her companion would have to change accordingly. It was eerie, but it also secretly thrilled her.

Breakfast was utterly, completely normal. Peking had made eggs and thick ham slices in their campfire skillet, garnished with roasted onions and bell peppers. There was strong hot tea brewed and sugar lumps ready for her to drink. The leaves rustled, the dew glistened, and the brook babbled across from their clearing. The mules lowed and munched their grass and the ducklings played happily in the clover. It was absolutely normal, bright, and charming.

But Yuxiang's mind couldn't help but search for the dark corners that she had neglected before. When Peking passed her her cup and brushed his fingers hers, was it on purpose? When he smiled, did it have a darker meaning? Were the ducklings giving them a wider berth, or was it her imagination?

“Your food will get cold if you don't eat it.”

Yuxiang looked up with a start. She had been pushing her food around her plate without realizing it. With a blush and a stammered apology, she went back to eating self-consciously. He was enjoying this. He had to be. But she couldn't waste food. She knew how tight their money was at the moment. So she had to finish her plate.

That pleasant breakfast, she knew it for what it was now. It was a form of sweet torture. Her carrying the memory of that journal and him knowing she had read it all. But he also knew she wouldn't speak about it; therefore he had to be the one to initiate the conversation. As he largely ignored her presence, Yuxiang could only feel the tension rise quietly. Peking was already tormenting her and she couldn't help but realize that it was only a prologue for what he truly intended to do.

“If you're done, go wash up. We'll have to go into town again today.”

His gentle voice punctured Yuxiang's reverie, making her realize that she had been staring at an empty plate. She handed it to him as he seemed to be waiting to relieve her of it. As she did, they made eye contact. While his face seemed as passive and quiet as ever, for just a second she thought she caught a flash of something in his one open eye that made her stomach flip. She quickly looked to the ground and excused herself with a stammer.

The small stream was tucked behind a thick copse of shrubbery, giving Yuxiang ample cover away from the road to bathe. Peking was always conscious of privacy when it came to their campsites; if the stream was too close to the road or there wasn't ample space for the ducks and mules, he would move on until he found an acceptable spot. Regardless, she undressed quickly; other travelers weren't who she thought might interrupt her.

The clear water of the stream was still cool from last night. It rushed quickly, a mountain stream that had only just reached the foothills and didn't exactly know what to do with all its energy. With Yuxiang's mind as full as it was, she could relate. With more enthusiasm than was probably smart, she sank into the cold water up to her shoulders. It did little to extinguish the persistent warmth in her lower body.

Bathing was almost automatic now, with as distracted by her thoughts as Yuxiang was. As she wrung out her hair, taking as long as she could, she hesitated to wash her body. Even with the chilly water, she knew there was a shameful slickness between her thighs. When she finally soaped up, she studiously avoided that area as well as her breasts. It was just too sensitive and she felt guilty for it.

She did have to wash herself, though, and eventually her hands reached the apex of her legs. Yuxiang sunk nearly to her chin in the creek and leaned against a large rock, hiding on the opposite side from the campsite. Perhaps if she just dealt with those feelings now, she could be more clear-headed later on. Closing her eyes, she let her fingers explore her nether regions underneath the water.

It wasn't that she had never touched herself. It was infrequent, but it had happened before. She had even brought herself to climax. It was just that she rarely felt the need. When her Master Attendant had first summoned her and forbade her from reading too much, it wasn't even something that had crossed her mind. But once she began reading, she had also begun to feel desire. It sometimes led to fantasies late at night in her bed, where she imagined herself with the ancient heroes she read about in the history books. And now, after reading that cursed volume, she couldn't stop the images dancing through her mind of her companion.

Without realizing it, Yuxiang had begun to rub the fleshy hood of her clit. It was hard and swollen with need, the stimulation from that damn book being more than she knew what to do with. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through her hips at her touch and she bit her lip to keep from gasping. Her head lolled back as she leaned into the large river rock, bracing herself there. If she could just take care of this now, Peking would never have to know…

At the thought of him, Yuxiang suppressed another cry. With her next breath, though, she felt her body go as cold as the stream around her. She smelled tobacco smoke.

It shouldn't have been possible. The campfire usually masked the scent of his pipe and she was too far away from the campsite to smell it anyway. Heart hammering in her ears, she turned with her back to the rock until she could see the campsite through the bushes again. He was there, hitching the mules to their wagon. But that smell of pipe smoke persisted.

He was watching her, even when he appeared not to be. And he no longer cared if she knew it. His psychic powers were much weaker now than they were when he destroyed that diseased country, but he could still easily keep an eye on her.

“Be a good girl, Yuxiang,” came his voice in her mind. It was as insubstantial as mist and she nearly questioned if she had heard it at all. But there was no mistaking it.

She knew she should worry. Just then, her body felt ice cold from the invasion of privacy. Part of her – a very large part, if she was honest - didn't mind at all, though. That part of her….

It was scary, but she thought she might like it.

* * *

 

Their midday errand took them back to the same town they had visited the day before. Peking didn't need to tell Yuxiang that their cover story for today would be the same as yesterday.

She would be posing as his slave again today.

She knew now what she didn't know yesterday, though: that this was all an elaborate game of Peking's, designed to make her comfortable with the idea of being dominated by him. Chances were that they didn't actually need supplies from town, either.

Still, he gave nothing away on the way there. He held his ducklings as always, hummed a warm tune under his breath as always, and drove the mules as gently as always. If she hadn't been as tense as she was, Yuxiang thought it might have been a wonderful outing. Before today, she could have happily sat beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder as they drove. But today she didn't dare.

She felt tired, her nerves pulled taught by every little thing. She'd had little sleep the night before and had no relief from the tension. She felt as though she’d drunk entirely too much oversteeped tea, that even if she had time to sleep she wouldn’t be able to. But it wasn't a physical exhaustion; it was mental, purely from her overactive imagination.

Perhaps that was why Yuxiang had begun to relax a bit on the ride into town. Peking would do what Peking was going to do, regardless of how much she worried or anticipated it. And the constant racing of her thoughts had exhausted her. By the time the wagon drew to a stop, she had almost dozed off.

“We're here, my dear,” the soft voice called from beside her. She felt his hand softly squeeze her shoulder, truly waking her. Yuxiang didn't panic from the contact, though. Conversely, it was comforting. She looked directly into Peking's eye; he was as kind and gentle as she had known him to be. And when he leaned in to speak to her in a hushed tone, it was just as soft.

“You can sleep when we get back to camp. But I need you awake right now.”

He smiled then and Yuxiang found herself completely awake. It certainly looked like a normal smile. But ice was crawling down her spine and her heart beat heavy in her ears. What was he going to do?

Peking descended the wagon first and hitched the mules to the post outside the shop. He then walked around to give Yuxiang a hand down. As she stepped onto the hard-packed earth, she saw where they were. It was a tack shop, a place to buy bridles, saddles, and other equipment for their mules and wagon. Yuxiang’s suspicion was displaced by curiosity. Perhaps they really did have need of some supply of which she was unaware before?

They entered the shop, Yuxiang two paces behind Peking with her eyes on the backs of his feet. Knowing what was expected of her, even if it was only an act, was a sort of secret, perverse pleasure. His steps grew hesitant for a moment as he seemed to be deciding where in the shop to go. Then he decided on a route and walked straight there.

When he finally stopped again, Yuxiang looked up to see a rack hung heavy with rods, whips, prods, and crops. She felt only the slightest confusion; Peking had never used any such instrument on the mules. But then she realized: this wasn't for the mules.

After a moment's consideration, Peking selected a riding crop with a stiff rod as long as his forearm. Yuxiang watched, pulse fluttering, as he bent it gently with both hands, judging its resilience. He examined the keeper on the end with his fingers, toying with it to test the firmness of the leather. He considered the instrument for what seemed like an eternity before he judged it worthy of his final test: he struck it several times against his pant leg.

Each strike was slow and deliberate. The fabric of his white pants muffled the noise, but Yuxiang could tell what it would have been against bare skin. Her eyes widened; his swings were nearly hypnotic and each impact reverberated someplace inside her that made it hard to continue standing in the middle of a tack shop. Peking was making sure she knew exactly how he intended to use that crop.

Yuxiang couldn't see his face, but she knew he had to be smiling.

“Come along, then,” he softly commanded, clearly satisfied with his selection. She did as she was told, heartbeat drowning out the ambient noise as they approached the counter.

The conversation with the shopkeep was cordial as always. Yuxiang said nothing, keeping her eyes down just as the slave girl she was supposed to be would have. When the clerk asked Peking how he would be using his purchase, she could hear that devilish grin creep back into his voice.

“I have a little filly that's a bit stubborn,” he chimed, his stone mask firmly in place. “I've decided she needs a touch more discipline.” If the clerk caught his true meaning, he didn't let on; he seemed to be a more innocent caliber of man than the owner of the general store. With an approving hum, the clerk took Peking's money and wrapped his purchase. When he handed it to him, Peking held it for just a second before turning to Yuxiang. The wicked glimmer in his eye stole her breath.

“Would you be a dear and take this to the wagon?” he asked, a knowing undertone flowing through his words. “Do you know where to put it, my pet?” As she took the crop, he surreptitiously stroked the back of her hand. The impact of his manipulation almost drove Yuxiang to her knees. Luckily, she stayed upright. She nodded her understanding, but he did not release the crop.

He wanted her to say it.

“Y-Yes,” she affirmed. The silence hung in the shop, thick and heavy. He wanted more.

“Yes, _Master_.”

Peking smiled a satisfied smile and released the crop to her. The clerk looked away discretely, finding some interesting papers to shuffle behind the front counter. Yuxiang tarried another moment before hurrying out the door with as much dignity as she could retain.

When she burst out of the shop door, she gulped the outside air as though she had been suffocating. After a moment of catching her breath, Yuxiang rushed into the wagon. She mounted the running board and entered the living space. With a snap, she shut the door behind her and leaned heavily against it. After another moment of steady breathing, Yuxiang straightened herself and made her way to where she knew Peking wanted her to deliver his crop.

The black curtains were open, allowing a small sliver of light inside his bunk. Yuxiang had never touched it, not even to wash the coverings when it was her turn to do laundry. There was something forbidding about it, a dark energy that enveloped it that Yuxiang had convinced herself she had imagined. She was learning better now.

She leaned forward, placing a hand inside the bunk to steady herself. As she bent into Peking's sleeping space, her perception seemed to shift ever so slightly. As if in a dream, Yuxiang carefully laid the paper-wrapped crop on the black silk pillow at the head of the bunk. The smell enveloped her like a wave, making her vision swim. It was sweet tobacco and spice, warm and masculine and intoxicating. It was Peking's smell and Yuxiang was bewitched by it.

“That's a good girl.” His voice came to her ear, breathy, dark, and amused. Yuxiang realized he was standing behind her. She shot upright with a gasp, as though she had been caught doing something bad.

“But you must wait until later. Come. We're going back to the campground now.”

Yuxiang nearly protested, but Peking was back out on the running board before she could speak. She wanted to tell him that she hadn't been tempted to climb inside his bunk just then. She wanted to say that she didn't want to smell his pillow, just to see what his skin smelled like. But she knew that he'd know she was lying. Her cheeks were on fire and her panties were soaked.

* * *

 

The afternoon passed in a haze. Between Yuxiang's mental exhaustion, her unrelenting frustration, and the tension between her and Peking, it was no wonder she passed out shortly after returning to the camp site. She settled down into her plush writing chair and almost immediately fell asleep. It wasn't until dinner time when she caught the scent of Peking's cooking that she woke up.

The sun was beginning to sink in the late summer sky when Yuxiang emerged from the wagon. She was immediately plied with hot tea and chicken stew from the campfire and encouraged to eat her fill. The butterflies in her stomach had all but destroyed her appetite, but she tried her best to clean her plate.

The firelight shone brighter as the sky darkened and the stars emerged. Across the campfire, Yuxiang could see the glowing fire reflected in Peking's eye. Just for a second, before he turned to catch one of his ducklings, she felt like she would be forgiven for mistaking him for a Fallen Angel.

She tried to smoke her pipe to calm her nerves. The nicotine helped; it also gave her something to do with her hands while she waited. She realized again that she honestly had no idea when it was going to happen or what Peking would do. But the thought of the things written in that book happening to her almost negated the effects of the tobacco altogether.

“My, where has the time gone?”

Peking was standing and stretching towards the sky. Yuxiang watched him, taking a drag from her kiseru to disguise her nerves. He looked back at her, the corner of his lip twitching up in a small smile. He knew she would come to him tonight.

In short order, he had gathered his ducklings, went inside the wagon, collected  his bath supplies, and made his way back outside. As he passed Yuxiang’s spot on the wooden folding chair before the campfire, he paused, the firelight gleaming off his monocle.

“The children are in bed,” he informed her, placing a hand on her shoulder. It was a normal thing for him to let her know, but she was keenly aware that there was another meaning tonight. Before she could reply, he released her and began walking towards the stream.

“I'm going to bathe. You should do your writing.”

Normally he wouldn't have to remind her. But tonight her thoughts were so frazzled that she didn't think she would be able to accurately record the day's events. Either way, she should at least try to write. It would serve to kill time until bed at the very least.

So she settled into her comfortable writing chair and mechanically recorded the days events – or lack thereof. To describe them with her hand, it sounded like nothing had happened. But how could she explain the torment she'd experienced all day long? All the little things Peking had done thus far? The things she expected he would do very soon? She smoked another pipe, hoping it would finally calm her nerves. There was no such luck. Even moving her pen across the paper, it only felt like a means to hold back the clock until he returned.

When Yuxiang finally heard the door of the wagon open, she froze. A puddle formed under the tip of her pen as she waited for him to enter. When he did, as expected, he paused right before her chair and appraised her.

“Are you done with your writing?” he asked, his voice even. He didn't need to say more; the implications were clear and Yuxiang knew it.

“Yes,” she answered in a small voice. She tried to avoid staring, but he had tied his robe even looser tonight than last night. This time, however, he didn't bother leaning down. He simply regarded her with a small smile.

“Then why don't you change and get to bed?” Before she could respond, Peking had already turned and made his way to his bunk. In another few seconds, he had vanished behind his black curtains. Yuxiang exhaled, closed her eyes for a long moment, and set her book aside for the night.

She felt much calmer than she had thought she would as the chill of the night settled on her skin. Moving towards the back of the wagon, she opened their shared closet to find her robe folded neatly and waiting on top of her other clothes. She usually hung it up, so it was obvious what had happened; it was an implied order.

Stripping off her day clothes, Yuxiang slipped on her robe without thinking. She tied it closed with a simple single knot before taking her hair down. As she removed the ties and combs holding her ponytail in place, her hair fell loose against her backside. Taking a deep breath, she turned to extinguish her lantern, throwing the wagon into darkness.

Like a spell, she had entered a different world. It was uncertain and dangerous, the familiar shapes of the wagon distorting into vaguer and more sinister characters. Yuxiang's eyes adjusted to the darkness, but it didn't help much. She knew she was in Peking's domain now, even without passing through his black curtains.

But that was the threshold she needed to cross to fully enter his world. So with trembling hands, she reached for the thick black material. It parted more easily than she had ever imagined, allowing moonlight to shine through and fall over the bed and its occupant.

Peking reclined against his pillows, the light glinting off his monocle as he watched Yuxiang openly. His right arm propped him up against his pillows while the left lay casually across his stomach. Looking there, Yuxiang could see that his robe hung open, exposing him to the night air. For the first time, she was allowed to see all of him; his navel, his hair, his already half-hard cock resting against his thigh. Seeing where she was looking, she heard a barely stifled chuckle.

“Well? Aren't you going to come inside?”


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Yuxiang was certain she was blushing, but she took the provocation. Her feet finally left the floor as she crawled into Peking’s bed, letting the curtains slip closed behind her. As soon as the two halves of cloth met, her world was plunged into absolute darkness. The blackness was so complete that it immediately induced a sense of vertigo.

Or that could have been Peking’s doing.

“I take it you read my last entry?”

She could feel him surrounding her completely then, just like that night in the hidden library when they’d met. But his voice, it was in her ear.

“Yes,” she said clearly around the lump in her throat. Peking’s hand slipped beneath the collar of her robe and trailed lightly over her breast. The pads of his fingers were like raw silk, smoothing over her erect nipple in tightening circles. As he spoke again, he gave her a small, teasing pinch.

“Then you’re going to become my plaything.”

It felt like an admonishment. Who was she, an inexperienced historian, to someone as worldly as him? She only read about history; he created it. His hand left her breast and continued lower, stopping to rest on the swell of her lower belly. She wanted him to go lower, although she was too nervous to say it.

“I… I am,” she finally said, nearly mortified at her own boldness. She could feel his smile against her neck, but his hand lingered in the same place.

“Mm,” came the pleased reply. “My bed has rules, my dear. You should listen carefully.” He didn’t seem to expect a reply, so Yuxiang stayed quiet. While he spoke, though, his hand made lazy circles over her skin. He left trails of heat wherever he touched.

“By passing through my bed curtains, you have agreed that I own your entire being now,” he murmured, teeth grazing the flesh of her neck. “But you already knew that, didn’t you, my pet? That means you may not be touched by anyone but as I choose – not even your _own_ hands may touch my property without my permission. Do you understand?”

She did. She had understood that since earlier in the day when he had stopped her in the river from touching herself.

“I do,” she answered, her voice quiet but sure. She felt his right hand run through her hair, catching a handful and wrapping it idly around his wrist.

“When you are in my bed, your name no longer has any meaning,” he continued softly. “You are only my pet here. And I am only your Master.” He gently tugged her head to the side by her hair, laying a stinging kiss onto her neck as he waited for her acknowledgment. Yuxiang had to fight to keep her head clear enough for an answer as Peking tongued the place he’d just bitten.

“If you call my name, I will stop whatever I am doing. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, Master.” Yuxiang understood it for a safety measure, but she also knew it was a threat as well. But her answer clearly pleased him, as his left hand began traveling again. His middle finger was the first to reach the patch of fine hair covering his prize. It slid easily into the wet fold of flesh, the tip of his finger finding her hard nub immediately. As he began to roll over it slowly, he continued speaking.

“But if you disobey me…” His lips were on her shoulder now, and between the vibration of his voice and the pressure of his finger, Yuxiang felt jolts of heat rush through her body. But just as quickly, his thumb joined his finger, drawing her clit into a painful pinch. She gasped sharply at the pressure, trying to understand why it hurt while also feeling wonderful.

“Don’t disobey me, my pet.”

As she whimpered and tried to keep her hips from moving, she could feel him press his smile into her shoulder.

“But you know,” he spoke into her flesh again, “You’ve already been so sinful today.” His words sent a surge of ice down her spine, followed closely by the heat from the pain between her legs. He stroked her clit then, still pinching it between his thumb and middle finger. It hurt, but she didn’t want him to stop.

“I’ve looked forward to your punishment all day.”

His voice was rough with need, quivering with excitement. Yuxiang knew exactly how long it had been since he’d practiced his sadism on anyone. She could practically feel him tremble in anticipation behind her; while she had been absorbed in imagining all the terrible things he’d do to her, he had likewise been planning what he’d do to her, eagerly engineering ways to draw out the most enjoyment from her torment.

“You look so mature, but you’re really innocent inside, aren’t you? My sweet girl, my pure little poppet… but you have a place that’s begun to get dirty, don’t you?”

Yuxiang gasped and fought the urge to cover her face as the pressure from his fingers grew more intense. Why was she embarrassed? He was currently working over the place to which he referred, switching suddenly to be more gentle now instead of painful. Hearing him point it out was another matter entirely, though. But that also told her what she needed to do.

“Y-Yes, Master,” she confessed shyly, “All day, my thoughts have been so impure. I’ve become tainted… from that book…” She could feel him shudder against her skin, his grip in her hair tightening. But his delicious finger moved away, leaving a damp trail over her belly. After another kiss to her neck, Yuxiang understood why.

She was pushed onto her back, making her fall into a soft pile of cushions. Following that, her knees were pushed wide apart, leaving her vulnerable and all the way open. Was he going to mount her? Her head spun with wild possibility.

Then she felt strong fingers squeeze her thigh; another set rubbed insistently at her entrance. They spread her outer lips apart, revealing how wet and how well-coated her labia was. Truthfully, her body had been ready for him the entire day.

Hot breath hit her slick entrance, cooling it ever so slightly and she realized what was happening. He was inspecting her. At least that was what made the most sense; Yuxiang wasn’t entirely sure whether he could see in this darkness or not. But Peking’s face being that near to her most private spot made her feel self-conscious… and a little shameless.

“I see,” he drawled. “How filthy you’ve become down here…” He laid a kiss on her clit, drawing it into his mouth with a hard suction. Then he withdrew again. “I should make you repent of those wicked thoughts, but… I _am_ the one who’s done this, aren’t I?” Then he leaned back into her, licking the juices from her spread lips.

Yuxiang struggled to stay mostly still, stifling her moans by placing her fingers in her mouth. Far from the pain she had expected, Peking’s mouth was bringing her nothing but pleasure. It was hot and wet, gently stroking her outside with his thumbs while his tongue lavished attention upon her slick inner walls. It entered like a snake, filling her passage and darting back and forth to tease her.

He didn’t just explore with his tongue, though. True to his word, he sucked at her lips, cleaning the sticky nectar from them. Her bud wasn’t safe either; he pressed it against his upper teeth while running his tongue along the roof of her passage. Yuxiang was almost ashamed at the flood of juice that caused to gush out of her.

It was really all she could do to keep from riding his face. Perhaps she was enjoying herself too much, because he stopped and drew back.

“Pet,” he addressed her, “I suppose I’m hungrier than I thought. So why don’t you touch yourself while I clean you? I want more of your cream.” Yuxiang rushed to oblige him as he went back to work, pressing her little pearl down and rolling it back and forth beneath her finger. As he licked the heat back into her sopping slit, she did her best to become even wetter for him.

Finally, her mind wasn’t working itself ragged trying to find the ulterior motive behind his actions. Instead, Yuxiang had completely lost herself to the moment, only having to concern herself with following Peking’s orders. She wasn’t trying as hard to contain her cries; even they were beginning to seep out.

“Ah!” Peking called to her, lips brushing her slick opening. “Your voice is beautiful, pet! I want to hear it more!” His request was so sweet that Yuxiang was compelled to obey. As his tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot, she cried out in earnest. Being able to be loud only made the pleasure more intense.

It was just too much. The few times she had awkwardly managed to bring herself to climax were nothing like this. Waves of alternating heat and cold washed over her as she felt her muscles pulse around her lover’s tongue. Yuxiang nearly froze stiff as her orgasm claimed her. Her voice stilled and quieted, the intensity subsiding. Peking pulled away a few moments later, leaving her to cool.

As her senses returned, Yuxiang realized he was above her, between her thighs. Her pulse quickened when she discovered she could feel his cock, too; it pressed eagerly against her stomach as he kissed a trail up her breasts and to her neck. Was he going to enter her now? She found that she really hoped he would.

One of his hands slid up her neck and cupped her cheek, turning her face towards his kisses. Yuxiang relaxed into his hand, allowing him to play along her jawline, barely registering the scraping of teeth as he did so.

“Oh, my sweet darling pet,” he crooned, nipping at her earlobe. “Did you come?”

“Yes, Master,” she answered without hesitation. Had she been more observant at the moment, she might have questioned the strange shudder in his voice as he asked, or the curve of his lips when she answered. She might have done well to notice his ragged breathing or how intense the atmosphere within his bunk had become. But Yuxiang was utterly complacent with him at the moment and could not have guessed he didn’t feel the same.

“Oh no,” he very nearly sang. “What a shame… I told you, didn’t I? You belong to me…”

Yuxiang snapped back to full consciousness at his tone. It was far more dangerous than anything she’d ever heard from him before. The atmosphere had grown oppressive enough in the bunk for her to finally notice, as well. As she turned to look at him, she found that she could actually see his eyes: both of them for once, glowing an eerie yellow in the darkness.

“Who told you to come?” he hissed, leaning into her. She could feel all of him – every bit of his length – press against her, angry and unashamed. She didn’t dare move, though. This was the side of him that she nearly never saw; the one who had thrived in that blighted kingdom for years.

“N-No one,” she answered hesitantly. Yuxiang wasn’t sure if she was terrified or incredibly turned on. She knew she probably should be afraid, but she also held deep inside that Peking would never truly hurt her. She had to trust him.

“No one? So you decided it yourself.” His tone was stern and icy. “Oh, my dear. Only I make decisions like that in this bed. Only I can give you permission to come. My pet isn’t allowed to act on her own here.”

She could just faintly see his smile, reflected from the sickly yellow light in his eyes. It made Yuxiang feel cold from head to toe.

“You’ll need to be punished, of course.”

She could feel something constricting around her wrists, holding them still beside her head. But Peking also still held her down with his body.

“Were you hoping I would fuck you now?” he whispered, rocking his hips gently against her. Yuxiang could feel that he wanted to, or at least she was relatively sure that he did. But it also appeared to be true that she wanted that more than he did at the moment. He was mocking her, holding back laughter.

“I… I…”

“Don’t lie, dear heart, I’ll know.”

“…I was.”

That sinister smile did not waver. Rather, Peking pulled away from her; she could feel him hovering over her, hands trailing down her body as he sank back into the darkness. They came to rest on her hips, fingertips digging into her flesh.

“But you were such a bad girl today, pet,” he scolded gently, his voice taking on a discordantly lyrical quality. “And my cock is only for good girls. So you must earn that privilege. You must tell me your sins, so that I can punish you for them. And perhaps when I feel that you are contrite enough…”

She knew logically that he hadn’t moved from his position between her legs. But it felt as though his next words were whispered directly into her ear.

“…I will fuck you so hard you won’t be able to stand tomorrow.”

Yuxiang could feel it then. The head of his cock, soft and hot, pressing against her slit. She held her breath, waiting for his next action. But he didn’t move and she didn’t dare press forward. He was daring her to defy him, to try and claim him. And when she took the bait, he would certainly torment her even more. Yuxiang whimpered from her indecision. After another few moments, he withdrew with a chuckle.

“You learn so well,” he crooned softly, pushing her legs back together. His mask seemed to be firmly back in place, the angry, violent Peking Duck hidden again. “What a fine pet you’ll make. But first we must lash that sinfulness out of you. Come.”

She still couldn’t move her wrists on her own, but she could feel her body being turned over. A pile of cushions supported her stomach and her rump was pushed high in the air. Her cheek rested against the soft, warm sheets and her wrists were pressed down on either side of her face, supporting her weight. She could feel him behind her, pushing her knees apart. First her left leg, then her right, had a strap fastened around it. As he tightened the straps down, she realized that her knees wouldn’t move together anymore; he’d placed some kind of bar between them, leaving her spread wide open for him.

Then Peking covered her from behind, draping across her back and ass like a blanket. His hands squeezed her sides, slowly traveling up her body until he found her breasts. They hung like heavy fruits, dangling against the bedsheets, her sensitive nipples grazing the fabric. He cupped each one in his hands, squeezing gently as he pressed against her backside. Her robe had ridden up her back, offering no protection from him whatsoever. Yuxiang squeezed her eyes shut, mewling from the pressure on her breasts and the feel of his cock digging into her rear. She felt his chuckle reverberate through her own body, knowing he was delighting in teasing her.

His purpose became clear soon enough. With a metallic ‘snap’, one after the other, something cold and hard latched onto her breasts. Yuxiang cried out in shock and pain; her nipples had been bitten by cold metal clamps and the faint jingle let her know that they were now connected with a chain. When he tugged it, the painful jolt sent hot shockwaves from Yuxiang’s breasts to her slit, on down to her toes.

“I’m ready to hear your confessions now,” he whispered, moving from her back and leaving her cold. She knew where he was, though. He was right behind her, one hand planted firmly on the swell of her ass and squeezing it tightly.

Yuxiang felt something else flitter across her thighs then. It was light and cold and firm and she recognized the texture. It tickled as Peking made it dance over her skin, but she knew what it was for. Just the thought made her juices flow again, the lubrication dripping from her onto the sheets below. She couldn’t wait to hear the sound of it against her ass. All she had to do to hear it was to speak her sinfulness aloud.

“Master, I… I read your journal last night.” The slap from the riding crop sounded against her rear, stinging sweetly and causing her to gasp. His force was perfect, not hitting too hard but still hitting hard enough to be satisfying.

“And what kind of ideas did that give you, pet? Did it excite you?” Yuxiang gave a sharp gasp as he tugged her chain, causing her breasts to sting.

“Y-Yes!” she cried despite herself. “I want to do those things, too!” The snap of the crop made her gasp, but Yuxiang continued. “I want to be controlled by you, Master! I want your discipline!” Two more snaps. She hardly even knew what she was saying anymore, but the sting of the leather against her flesh was good incentive. It hurt, but it also burned, filling her with heat from her knees to her navel.

“You want to be as depraved as me, I think. What else do you want?” Another tug of the chain, another sharp squeal. Yuxiang needed a moment to catch her breath before she continued. At the rate she was going, he would push her to orgasm again.

“I want…”

Another slap against her ass, this one dangerously close to her swollen slit. She imagined him slapping her there and cried out again.

“What do you want, pet?”

“Please, Master…”

He snapped on the other half of her slit this time, catching the side of her lip. She shuddered, feeling her whole body shake.

“I want you to fuck me,” she confessed, trying to bury her face in the sheets. “I want… I want you to make me come again.” The crop struck again, harder this time, three times in quick succession. Yuxiang could feel tears leak from her eyes. How was it possible that she could sense his love in those strokes? It was there every time he struck with the crop, but that wasn’t all she felt. There was also anger simmering just beneath the surface, and a desire to inflict pain; Yuxiang knew those feelings weren’t directed at her, but they snapped into her with every strike anyway.

“My dirty little poppet,” he hissed, “Have I poisoned your mind so badly? I won’t give you your release so easily. I want to have more fun with you. Your pain is so delicious…”

He tugged at her breasts harder than before, stretching them downwards by the nipples until Yuxiang thought they might bleed. But even though it was painful, it was also exquisite, causing her to burn and cry out with need. Peking chuckled behind her. That terrible creature was beginning to show itself again.

“I forbid it,” he continued, his mirth seeping through, “I forbid you to come just now. You still haven’t told me what you did this morning.” Yuxiang wanted another snap from that riding crop. She wanted to simply obey him, losing the burden of her overactive mind. She hungered for his approbation. The terrifying Peking Duck that ruined nobleladies and destroyed countries, she wanted that Food Soul to punish her.

“I tried to make myself come,” she breathed, curling her fingers into the sheets. When the crop came, hard against her cunt, it was like a blessing.

“I tried to hide it from you!”

The slap was harder this time, almost hard enough to be only painful, but Yuxiang loved it. He had reserved his harshest punishment for her keeping things from him. She panted against the bed, hot all over. It was so close, but she wanted to obey him with every fiber of her being. She only wanted to come when Peking told her she could. Most of all, she wanted him to be inside of her when she did.

“What a little sinner,” he murmured, pressing his middle finger against her opening. Yuxiang didn’t dare move as his digit sank into her soft, quivering folds; his index finger joined in after a few strokes, making it difficult to remain still. He was testing her, stretching her from the inside. When he pressed firmly against the roof of her feminine cavern, it caused a flood to leak out. It ran down her thighs in rivulets, soaking the sheets beneath her.

“I should just leave you here like this,” he breathed. “Ass in the air, hungry for my cock.” His fingers worked inside her, moving rhythmically to simulate what she really wanted. “Would you like that, pet?”

Yuxiang didn’t think he would really do it, but the thought tantalized her. That longing she had felt all day, stretched out indefinitely. The romance and beauty of endless thirst. Knowing that it would be just as unavoidable a temptation for him, too.

“No, please, I… I'm… I’m going to come, Master,” she whimpered, feeling her end draw near. “Please… not yet…” He had to know. He had to know how far he was pushing her. So it was no surprise when his fingers slid out, letting the chill night air envelope her hot slit instead. She was immediately pulled back from the edge of her climax, denied that final satisfaction.

“You’ve become such a good, honest girl so quickly,” he said, rubbing gentle but firm circles into the flesh of her rump with his thumbs. “Would you like your reward now?” Yuxiang went still, a chill moving up her spine. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? But she had to play into his hands.

“Yes, Master,” she replied, rubbing her cheek against the soft sheets. She felt the belts loosen around her legs and the bar being removed; a moment later, her breasts were released as well. A confused noise caught in her throat as Peking’s hands caught her around the waist and pulled her backwards. He cradled her tightly against his chest as he leaned back into a sitting position. The curve of her bottom fit nicely against his groin, his hot length squeezed between them; his legs were stretched between hers, allowing her to straddle his lap. One hand grasped her by the breast, kneading her where she’d been clamped just a few seconds ago and dispelling the pain. The other hand pulled at her thigh, spreading her legs further than they had been with the bar between them. When he was satisfied that she was in a good position to ride him, Peking slid her up his stomach, freeing his cock to sit directly between her legs.

Yuxiang sat perfectly still, nearly quivering from the effort as Peking scraped the flesh of her throat with his teeth. Her slit throbbed as he positioned his cock right between her folds. He didn’t push inside just yet, though. Yuxiang whimpered softly, her impatience eating at her. Peking only chuckled.

“You want me so badly, don’t you?” He moved beneath her, stroking between her lips slowly as he spoke. “But I’m concerned, pet.” His hand drifted from her thigh to her labia, using his fingers to spread her open for him. When he was satisfied with his position, he moved his hand back to her thigh with a squeeze. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

Yuxiang suddenly felt self-conscious again, although it was mostly superficial. With the things he’d been doing to her, it should hardly have mattered. But even that observation felt like an admonishment, prickling her with those thrilling, icy feelings.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice sweet and hesitant. “Is that bad?” As she whispered her hesitation, Peking rubbed the head of his cock against her opening. She could feel some slickness already gathered there, but as he moved against her, it spread even further.

“It’s good for me,” he replied, pressing his smile into her neck. “I can educate you just how I like. Soon you’ll be every bit the cock worshiping little slave girl that I desire you to be.” She sucked in a sharp breath as the tip of his head found a snug spot between her lips. Just as she thought he might finally push into her and put an end to her torment, though, he slid back away again.

“But I’m worried you might not be able to take all of it this time. Perhaps we should try again later, hmm?” Yuxiang bit her lip. She knew he might withhold his favor again, but by the same token, she couldn’t let that go unchallenged. She moved ever-so-slightly, hoping to take him inside. He retaliated with a swift pinch to her nipple, eliciting a squeal.

“Ah-ah. Be patient or I won’t reward you.”

“Master, please,” she breathed, hoping to tempt him with words instead, “I want it inside of me.” He found that perfect spot at her entrance again and cradled the head of his cock there. Yuxiang could feel the tip push just past the slit of her labia, but he went no further. She could cry.

“What do you want, my pet? Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do to you.” She could feel him move, but he still went no further in. Yuxiang stifled a frustrated cry before answering.

“Please, Master! Please fuck me! I’m dying for it, I–!”

She was silenced by Peking’s index and middle fingers sliding into her mouth. Tears trailed down her cheeks as the mortification from her outburst set in. But he didn’t intend to give her time to worry about it.

“I am not a cruel master,” he breathed his answer into her ear. “Since you have been such a good girl, I will allow you this. Use your fingers to spread yourself open for me.”

Forgetting the little shame she had left, Yuxiang did just as she was told, holding herself open with trembling, excited fingers. Almost instantly, he sank deeper in, the entire head of his cock squeezing into her opening. His fingers muffled the ecstatic moan that escaped her throat. She could also hear him inhale sharply behind her ear.

Yuxiang had read her fair share of pillowbooks and ladies’ novels. In all of them, they described the heroine’s first time as painful, almost like being torn apart. It was always a bloody mess that ached the next day, and as such, she had gone into this expecting something similar. But that wasn’t what she was experiencing just then. It didn’t hurt at all; on the contrary, she could feel herself stretching around him, welcoming him, and it was delightful. She wanted all of him.

“Oh, it’s like you were summoned just for this,” he remarked, sounding as breathless as she felt. His fingers left her mouth, allowing her to exhale sharply, panting from his intrusion. “Can you take the rest?”

“Yes! Please! All of it!”

For a moment, he drew just a fraction of his length back out. Yuxiang’s heart nearly stopped, afraid he had reconsidered. Just as she was about to whine her disapproval, he slid back into her, easily fitting inside to where he had been and surpassing it. Slowly, he filled her all the way to the root. Yuxiang stretched around him, growing used to the intrusion. All of him was inside her now, creating an overwhelming sensation of fullness. She allowed her head to fall back onto his shoulder as it overpowered her senses.

“So good,” she whined as he began to work his cock back and forth inside her. “It’s so good!” She felt him laugh softly into her neck as both his hands now gripped her thighs from underneath, keeping her legs spread nice and wide.

“Do you like your reward, my dear?” The words raised goosebumps on her arms and puckered her nipples. But it also made her grow wetter as he worked at fucking her.

“Yes!” she gasped. “Please don’t stop!” She thought she might very well die if he didn’t let her finish this time.

“If you please me well,” he murmured into her ear, “I’ll give you something even more special at the end.”

Yuxiang had a good idea of what he meant. It was reckless and a little dangerous and under normal circumstances she probably would have strongly advised him against it. There was really no way of knowing what the results would be; there were no recorded instances of Food Souls producing offspring, anyway. But with the state she was in just then, not only would she not scold him, she felt compelled to actively encourage him. She _needed_ what he was going to give to her.

“Master, I want the special treat,” she whispered, her breaths coming in huffs now. “I want you to be happy with me!”

“What a greedy little pet…”

Even as she mewled her pleas to her Master, Yuxiang knew she must have been an undignified sight, hair messy from play, robe barely still clinging to her arms. Her ample breasts bounced violently with every rough stroke he gave her, and she loved every one. Her legs were spread as wide as they would go, baring her most private place to the night air as it greedily devoured her lover’s cock. In just a little more than one day, Peking had transformed her from a dignified historian into a wanton harlot.

And Yuxiang absolutely loved it.

In fact, the mental image of her spread wide and riding him sent a jolt up her spine. With a gasp, Yuxiang realized that the heat pooling where Peking squeezed her thighs threatened to overflow to the rest of her body at any moment. After all it had taken to simply get him inside of her, it seemed cruel that she could be brought to climax so soon.

“Master!” she cried. “I-I'm… I’m going to come… please… please let me come!”

She felt teeth at the nape of her neck. Every second Peking delayed his answer was like fresh torture.

“How could I say no to such an obedient girl? Come for me, my love.”

Yuxiang’s eyes nearly rolled back into her head. He had never called her that before. Even if it was just a literary flourish, just hearing him say it was orgasmic. That, combined with his command, meant that she wouldn’t have been able to hold back even if she wanted to. With a choked gasp, the heat flooded her body in waves, causing her to release a fresh gush of nectar onto his lap. She squeezed him tightly inside of her, feeling his every movement that much more intensely.

Peking continued to thrust inside of her, though; her orgasm didn’t slow him in the least. His strokes were sharp and growing faster, along with his breathing. As the haze cleared from her mind, she realized why that was: he was close to his own orgasm.

“Master,” she mewled as he continued to pound her mercilessly, “Master, please… I want your other present…” She felt his hands move from her thighs to her hips. His fingertips dug into her flesh as he used the leverage to have her ride him harder.

“Have you been good enough, pet?” he breathed. “Have you earned it?” He knew Yuxiang was a clever woman and would have already figured out his meaning. He was giving her one last chance to stop him. The problem was that she didn’t want to. She wholeheartedly wanted what he was about to do to her.

“Master, please,” she murmured her encouragement, leaning back against his shoulder. “Don’t pull out.”

With that, it seemed as if the tables had turned. He captured her lips in a kiss, devouring her hungrily. And as he did so, he pushed himself inside of her as far as he could go, striking a point so far back that it actually hurt. Then Yuxiang felt something that made her whimper against his lips: the rush of liquid heat inside her as it pulsed out of him. She was already soaked, but this felt different. It was silkier and hotter and made her feel fuller.

Peking relaxed a bit, too. Whereas his fingers had before been digging into the flesh of Yuxiang’s hips, his grip was now gentle. One of his hands drifted over her lower stomach and to the place where they were connected. As he slid out, his fingers pinched her outer lips closed.

“You worked so hard for this, my dear,” he whispered into Yuxiang’s lips. “You wouldn’t want to lose any of it.”

She lay on Peking’s lap like that for who knew how long, kissing his jaw and being kissed by him. They were clearly both spent, but neither had the compunction to move, either. But somehow, they had managed to slide down onto the bed to lay down anyway. Finally, after what seemed like a quiet eternity, Peking spoke one last time.

“The children will wake soon. So for now, sleep, Yuxiang.”

The darkness of the bunk seemed to recede, as though the sun were rising. Yuxiang knew that wasn’t it; that much time hadn’t passed. It was simply that Peking had released whatever charm he’d placed on his sleeping space and the normal moonlight was creeping in. She could finally see him.

He had rolled to his side to watch her, his eye half-lidded. The moonlight glinted cool and blue off of it, and Yuxiang found that strangely comforting. He smiled gently at her, and although she was deeply tired, she felt compelled to move to him. Although he seemed a bit surprised, Peking welcomed her to his chest where she laid down her head. Coiling his arms around her, Yuxiang thought that finally his presence didn’t seem constrictive; it was warm and comforting, as was his soft chuckle.

* * *

 

The elegant pair entered the teahouse arm-in-arm. He had dressed in his soft white trousers and beige tunic, and she in her favorite red cheongsam. This teahouse, located along the post road, wasn’t exactly fine dining, but it would suit the two of them just fine for a treat.

“A private booth, please,” Peking requested when the hostess asked their preference. These sorts of places were known for their discretion, as well as their curtained private booths, but they weren’t exactly being discrete today, were they?

That thought charmed him, as did the jingle of the silk lead he had attached to his dear pet’s collar before stepping out of their wagon in front of the teahouse. Oh, they could pretend that it was all to play a part for the humans they met along the road, but both he and Yuxiang knew the truth: that he just liked making her wear a leash and she just liked wearing one.

Likewise, they were also pretending that their visit to the teahouse was to celebrate another job well done. He had dispatched the owner of the general store, who was involved with human trafficking for the remnants of that damned cult and he been rewarded handsomely for it. But both of them knew that it was more that they wanted to see how far they could go in public without being arrested for indecency.

As it turned out, with the proper guidance, Yuxiang was something of an exhibitionist. She had asked to be tied with the silk ropes she currently wore underneath her dress this morning; if their host had looked closely at the opening of her dress, she’d have noticed the red cord running straight down between her ample breasts.

They were seated at their booth and had barely ordered their tea before Peking’s hand was up her skirt. The little tease, she had learned so quickly after their first night together the week prior. But Peking could hardly blame her; he was acting a hundred years younger himself.

When he burned that wretched country to the ground, he knew he wouldn’t be a Food Soul much longer. If he was lucky, he would run out of energy and fade away. But he always knew that wasn’t possible for someone of his level of strength. He would fall; it was inevitable. He would lose himself and unravel into base hunger and bloodlust. A Fallen Angel living in the ruins of that blighted land was the only fitting end for it.

But the very night he carried out his years long plan for vengeance, a stroke of luck fell into his path in the form of the little minx currently sitting beside him. With Yuxiang beside him, it was easier to hold onto his sanity. Yes, keeping her alive was selfish, but Peking Duck was nothing if not selfish.

“How are your ropes, love?” he asked, just as casually as if he were discussing the weather. He detected the hint of a blush along her nose and it delighted him. He also happened to know that if he hooked his finger under the rope beneath her collar and pulled, that it tightened the cord that ran over her clit. So naturally, that was exactly what he did.

“You did – ah! – a wonderful job as – mmm! – as always!”

Oh, she was so charming when she could barely speak.

He could very nearly see her pert little nipples poking through the heavy brocade of her dress, held up for inspection by those taut silk ropes. Peking was suddenly struck with the urge to undo the frogs on her blouse and run his palms over her pert breasts.

“Come sit on my lap, dear heart,” he said, his voice warm as a sunbeam. She gave him a knowing smile and obliged. By the time the tea came, he could only instruct the waiter to leave it on their table and shut their curtain behind him; Peking was otherwise indisposed.


End file.
